Cliffhanger
by JacquelineTheRipper
Summary: The Lone Wanderer is faced with a new challenge, and it may be her greatest one yet to overcome. This idea has been floating around my head for a while, and its a nice way to introduce my LW for potential upcoming stories about her. Warning: contains facepalm inducing puns.
1. Chapter 1

Sylvia leaned over the table, so rapt in wonder that she didn't notice how much her Nuka Cola bottle had tilted in her grasp. Soda dripped down her shirt, but she was too focused to care. Her favorite radio show was on, a series of adventures involving a certain traveler and his best friend. It seemed like she never tuned into GNR at the right times, as the girl always managed to miss the next episode. Luckily, Three Dog didn't have much to play, so the shows were commonly rerun. Sylvia had been relaxing at Carol's Place with her own "stalwart ghoul manservant" (the girl snorted to herself imagining what her bodyguard would think of that title) when she heard a familiar theme song. Her conversation with Winthrop was quickly dropped as she shushed him and pointed excitedly at the radio. Winthrop chuckled, Charon rolled his eyes, and the well reputed Lone Wanderer fidgeted eagerly like a child awaiting Christmas.

_You're listening to the adventures of me, Herbert "Daring" Dashwood, and my stalwart Ghoul manservant Argyle. Today's episode: Between Rockopolis and a hard place._

_**Penelope**__: Just ease away, zombie, no funny business._  
_**Argyle**__: Funny business!? Miss Chase, you hurt my feelings. I mean, there ain't nothing funny about THE EAGLE CLAAAAW! (Penelope screams)_  
_**Dashwood**__: Good god, Argyle, you, you ripped out her heart!_  
_**Argyle**__: Eh, I always knew this broad was heartless. Get it boss, heh heh, heartless?_

Sylvia could barely hold back a snicker, and quieted herself before the next line.

_**Dashwood**__: Your Kung-Fu skills may be unparalleled, old chum, but your comic delivery leaves something to be desired._  
_**King Crag**__: What is the meaning of this?_  
_**Dashwood**__: Oh, magnificent king Crag! Fearless leader of Rockopolis, it's me, Daring! … Daring Dashwood?_  
_**King Crag**__: Herbert Dashwood? (groans) I should have known! But who is this… this… dead woman. And, is that her… heart!?_  
_**Argyle**__: She's the least of your worries, Craggy. In a few seconds, the slavers are gonna be breaking down your rocky front door!_  
_**King Crag**__: Slavers!? You led the slavers HERE, to Rockopolis!? You idiots, do you realize what you've done!?_  
_**Dashwood**__: Inspired you to tighten your defenses?_  
_**King Crag**__: DASHWOOOOOOD!_  
_**Argyle**__: Our welcome's over, boss, time to scram!_  
_**King Crag**__: Citizens of Rockopolis, destroy these interlopers._  
_**Dashwood**__: This way, Argyle, into the caves, it's our only chance! (running footsteps)_  
_**Argyle**__: They're gaining on us, boss. That cliff up ahead, you think you can jump it? You ain't as spry as you used to be._  
_**Dashwood**__: Child's play, you withering worry-wood. Watch this! (Dashwood screams)_  
_**Argyle**__: Boss, don't worry, I'm coming!_  
_**Dashwood**__: Best hurry, old chum, I can't hang on… much… longer. I… think this could be the end of –_

_Be sure and tune in next time for another exiting adventure of me, Herbert "Daring" Dashwood and my stalwart Ghoul manservant Argyle!_

The Vault Girl sat pensively, righting her Nuka bottle. "It's a shame the show ended there..." Her somber expression vanished, replaced by her usual crooked grin. "...on such a cliffhanger."

Her companions were silent for a moment before the table burst into various sounds. Winthrop was chuckling again, Carol sighed with a smile, and Charon full out groaned in exasperation. Sylvia's eyes lit up misheviously and she continued. "It's the kind of ending that really leaves you...on edge." The same reactions occurred as before, but in greater volume. Charon even rolled his eyes once more. The girl was clearly holding back laughter at his annoyance. "Aw come on," she teased, nudging him. "You should be used to my sense of humor by now."

"I am," he droned. "Doesn't make it any less ridiculous."

Sylvia harrumphed in mock offense. "I _will_ get you to laugh at something. I swear, I'll keep trying 'til it works."

"Right," he replied dryly. "Good luck with that."

* * *

And try she did. Every day she had a new joke, pun, or anecdote with a witty punchline to share with her bodyguard. (Some of them weren't of her own creation and came from Wadsworth, but she wouldn't admit this unless directly asked.) Her best efforts still weren't enough. Being determined and stubborn to fulfill her claim, she persisted until she felt like further attempts would only irritate him.

Charon, on the other hand, didn't stop trying at all. He was trying his best _not _to laugh. It wasn't all that hard to do, seeing as he'd rarely laughed before. Before his contract changed hands, when he hadn't any reason to laugh. Now there was plenty, but he felt as though giving up his straightforward, deadpan act would be like releasing the last piece of the person he used to be.

Then again, was that really a bad thing? Before, he was a slave, a pretending-to-be-mindless drone to be controlled and bossed around. Sylvia had never given him a single order besides, "Er, do what you want and all. And I'd appreciate if you didn't, uh, blast my head off too." After assuring her that Ahzrukhal would be the last to receive that treatment, besides any of her enemies, that was the end of the orders. She "didn't like giving them" apparently.

So maybe he would indulge her and let go. Or, perhaps he'd continue to resist. Because seeing her scrunch up her nose in thought, racking her brain for anything amusing it contained, her enthusiastic little bounce and goofy smile as she procured the perfect pun-_that _was pretty funny.

* * *

**And so Cliffhanger ends in a cliffhanger. Reviews are appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I was planning to just end the story there, but soon after I posted it more ideas came along. It'd be a shame to waste them.**

* * *

Her hope was dwindling fast. No amount of tomfoolery could sway Charon in the slightest. He never even cracked a smile! At least, not when Sylvia was looking. She'd all but given up on the endeavor, deciding that it may be a lost cause. The girl sighed, flipping through notes on her Pip-Boy. The agenda for today was simple, Moira wanted them to try out her Mole Rat Repellent Stick for the survival guide. The device was basically a wooden club coated on one end with some kind of chemicals. Apparently, the substance was unappealing to Mole Rats and would only drive them away. The Vault girl was happy to hear this, she disliked the idea of killing the little-well, not so little rodents. They never attacked her as they did most people. In fact, none of the Wasteland's usual wildlife bothered her. Apart from Deathclaws and insects, of course.

Slinging her pack over her shoulder, she led the way through Megaton. Charon followed, stoic as always. They made it to the Tepid Sewers by noon. The slime-covered door was heavy and hard to grasp, but Sylvia eventually managed to pry it open. Inside, the tunnel reeked of mole rat. "Ah, yes. This place is perfect." Always the scientist, she turned to Charon and asked, "Should we have a control group? Maybe ones that we hit with a regular stick or something, to see if they react the same way?" Her bodyguard's raised eyebrow and vacant stare suggested that her idea was rather ridiculous, and it was dropped quickly. "Okay, fine. Seven regular tests should be enough."

She pulled out the stick and used it to point down the hallway. "Onward!" Charon tapped her shoulder and motioned behind him. "Shouldn't we go this way? The way you're pointing is a dead end." Sylvia peered into the dim tunnel and, realizing he was right as usual, turned around. She pointed in the new direction. "Onward!" Charon sighed and followed. He knew she was still trying to make him laugh, but her latest attempts were growing weak. Hopefully she'd stop soon.

Shortly, they heard the shuffling of clawed feet along the metal floors. They both crouched instinctively, Sylvia edging closer with her stick held aloft. Taking an apprehensive breath, she gave the rat a light smack. It turned to face her, its nose snuffling curiously. A few seconds passed, and the girl frowned in disappointment. "Huh. I guess it doesn't-"

Her comment was abruptly cut off by a splatter of blood, bone, and brain matter. Her mouth dropped in unison with the mole rat's now headless body. She gaped like a fish out of water, the stick falling from her grip, as she tried to process what the hell just happened. Charon was equally surprised, yet his face remained impassive. Sylvia turned to him incredulously, her shocked mind producing some humor to diffuse the tension.

"Wow, that one must have been _bursting _with excitement."

Her pun was terrible, but the whole situation was just too absurd for Charon to handle. His mouth twitched, breaking into a smile. He tried to stifle it, but to no avail. Sylvia watched in victory as he broke into laughter, releasing days of pent up hilarity. It began to die down, but seeing the look on his employer's face just started it right back up again. "Okay, fine-" he wheezed, "fine, you win. Just _please _stop with the jokes."

The girl smirked and wiped gore from her face. "No promises." She held out the stick as if it were a radsorpion. "Now here, you can get the next one."

After that, it was easier to laugh. Even at the silly things, of which there were plenty when traveling with Miss 101, the Savior of the Wastes, and Exploder of Molerats.


End file.
